A while back, film scribe Vadim Rizov asked the Internets for some of the music from Interkosmos. Thanks to the kind offices of the Gurgling Cod and his fancy mp3-generating turntable, we are able to oblige with sides one and two of the vinyl-only album [for a limited time, natch.] Shame you can't upload its beautiful letterpress sleeve....
The music for the film was created byJim
Becker and Colleen
Burke with additional drum parts by Jim White
and additional vocals by Jiha Lee and
Amy Warren. Besides writing and touring with his band
Califone,
Jim Becker most recently has toured with the bands Freakwater
and the Dirty Three. As well as playing piano in the band We
Ragazzi, Colleen Burke recently toured with Smog and is currently
collaborating with filmmaker Eve Sussman to develop a musical
film in Miami. Jiha Lee has sang and played flute with Bright
Eyes and The Good Life. Amy Warren is a Chicago singer and actress
who has sung with Tallulah and The Aluminum Group.
Dirty Three drummer Jim White has toured and recorded with
Cat Power, Nick Cave, Will Oldham and recently played percussion
on the score of Nick Cave's film The Proposition.
So I saw (500) Days of Summer finally, on the big screen in Harvard Square, after skipping it in favor of I forget what back in April at the Independent Film Festival of Boston. Frankly, I'm surprised at the relatively rapturous response it's getting from critics, sheer adorableness of the leads aside.
I mean, I like the Smiths. I like Hall & Oates. I thought the UCLA band was a nice touch. Ditto the Han-Solo-as-Bogey nod to Breathless. I killed singing the Pixies ["Wave of Mutilation," not "Here Comes Your Man," but still] the only time I played Rock Band. Hell, my brothers have been playing the penis game for years. What is wrong with me that I wasn't charmed utterly?
Then I watched Globe critics Wesley Morris and Ty Burr's take on Summer. And I encourage you to do likewise, not just because they have even better chemistry than Summer and Tom do. Wesley totally nails the cause of my unease:
"I'm just rooting for Zooey Deschanel to be something more than a notional girl, that's all."
...[Roland] Waizenegger became inspired by stories of taxi dancers, a trade that
peaked in popularity in the 1920s and 30s in Berlin and other major
cities. (The term is derived from the fact that a dancer's pay is
proportional to the amount of time spent with a patron, like that of a
taxi driver.) In Berlin between the two world wars, when young
able-bodied men were fairly thin on the ground, ousted aristocrats and
jobless army officers with posh manners began earning money spinning
ladies in the city's many dance halls. (Billy Wilder,
a Polish-born Hollywood film director, allegedly worked as a taxi
dancer in Berlin for several months in 1926. He was a 20-year-old
aspiring journalist at the time.)
It's been raw and rainy all day. Totally creativity/productivity-sapping weather. Then I discovered that the beginning of one of the most beautiful films I've seen this year is online. So I thought I'd share these nine minutes of David Lowery's St. Nick with you. Enjoy.
In sum, it's been a fairly fallow summer for movies thus far. I'm hoping to improve my luck during a quick jaunt to Boston this coming week. Fingers crossed.
But! One bright spot: Yesterday, I snagged an Athena 224-ES [or perhaps 224A] Motion Analyzer 16mm projector from campus surplus. Haven't tested to see whether it works yet, but the documentation promises "Forward and Reverse, without flicker" and "Unlimited single-frame hold time." I know where there's a stash of 16mm features on campus and am thinking serious flicker party time looms in my future. Anyone out there played with one of these babies? Pipe up in the comments, s.v.p.
Oh hai! [waves shyly]. There are reasons I have neglected my corner of the Interweb of late, swear. Chief among them is that when I left my home on June 11 for a 10-day holiday on a remote and wifi-free island, I had no idea I wouldn't be returning until this coming Monday, a month later. In between there was a stint getting seminarians drunk at the Flaherty and, well, a lot of icing of kegs. So give me a couple more days to regroup and finish my nomadic adventure and I promise to ply you with prose cinematic. Soon.